cb.booksofblood2-第20章

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s　frail　neck。
　Aaron　made　no　sound。
　'I　could　kill　you　boy。'
　'Yes；　sir。'
　'What　do　you　say　to　that？'
　'Nothing；　sir。'
　'You　should　say　thank　you；　sir。'
　'Why？'
　'Why；　boy？　'Cause　this　life's　not　worth　what　a　hog　can　shit；　and　I'd　be　doing　you　a　loving　service；　as　a　father　should　a　son。'
　'Yes；　sir。'
　
　In　the　shack　behind　the　house　Lucy　had　stopped　crying。　There　was　no　purpose　in　it；　and　besides；　something　in　the　sky　she　could　see　through　the　holes　in　the　roof　had　brought　memories　to　her　that　wiped　the　tears　away。　A　certain　sky：
　pure　blue；　sheeny…clear。　Eugene　wouldn't　harm　the　boy。　He　wouldn't　dare；　ever　dare；　harm　that　child。　He　knew　what　the　boy　was；　though　he'd　never　admit　to　it。
　She　remembered　the　day；　six　years　ago　now；　when　the　sky　had　been　sheened　like　today；　and　the　air　had　been　livid　with　the　heat。　Eugene　and　she　had　been　just　about　as　hot　as　the　air；　they　hadn't　taken　their　eyes　off　each　other　all　day。　He　was　stronger　then：　in　his　prime。　A　soaring；　splendid　man；　his　body　made　heavy　with　work；　and　his　legs　so　hard　they　felt　like　rock　when　she　ran　her　hands　over　them。　She　had　been　quite　a　looker　herself；　the　best　damn　backside　in　Wele；　firm　and　downy；　a　divide　so　softly　haired　Eugene　couldn't　keep　from　kissing　her；　even　there；　in　the　secret　place。　He'd　pleasure　her　all　day　and　all　night　sometimes；　in　the　house　they　were　building；　or　out　on　the　sand　in　the　late　afternoon。　The　desert　made　a　fine　bed；　and　they　could　lie　uninterrupted　beneath　the　wide　sky。
　That　day　six　years　ago　the　sky　had　darkened　too　soon；　long　before　night　was　due。　It　had　seemed　to　blacken　in　a　moment；　and　the　lovers　were　suddenly　cold　in　their　hurried　nakedness。　She　had　seen；　over　his　shoulder；　the　shapes　the　sky　had　taken：　the　vast　and　monumental　creatures　that　were　watching　them。　He；　in　his　passion；　still　worked　at　her；　thrust　to　his　root　and　out　the　length　again　as　he　knew　she　delighted　in；　'til　a　hand　the　colour　of　beets　and　the　size　of　a　man　pinched　his　neck；　and　plucked　him　out　of　his　wife's　lap。　She　watched　him　lifted　into　the　sky　like　a　squirming　jack…rabbit；　spitting　from　two　mouths；　North　and　South；　as　he　finished　his　thrusts　on　the　air。　Then　his　eyes　opened　for　a　moment；　and　he　saw　his　wife　twenty　feet　below　him；　still　bare；　still　spread　butterfly　wide；　with　monsters　on　every　side。　Casually；　without　malice；　they　threw　him　away；　out　of　their　ring　of　admiration；　and　out　of　her　sight。
　She　remembered　so　well　the　hour　that　followed；　the　embraces　of　the　monsters。　Not　foul　in　any　way；　not　gross　or　harmful；　never　less　than　loving。　Even　the　machineries　of　reproduction　that　they　pierced　her　with；　one　after　the　other；　were　not　painful；　though　some　were　as　large　as　Eugene's　fisted　arm；　and　hard　as　bone。　How　many　of　those　strangers　took　her　that　afternoon　…　three；　four；　five？　Mingling　their　semen　in　her　body；　fondly　teasing　joy　from　her　with　their　patient　thrusts。　When　they　went　away；　and　her　skin　was　touched　with　sunlight　again；　she　felt；　though　on　reflection　it　seemed　shameful；　a　loss；　as　though　the　zenith　of　her　life　was　passed；　and　the　rest　of　her　days　would　be　a　cold　ride　down　to　death。
　She　had　got　up　at　last；　and　walked　over　to　where　Eugene　was　lying　unconscious　on　the　sand；　one　of　his　legs　broken　by　the　fall。　She　had　kissed　him；　and　then　squatted　to　pass　water。　She　hoped；　and　hope　it　was；　that　there　would　be　fruit　from　the　seed　of　that　day's　love；　and　it　would　be　a　keepsake　of　her　joy。
　
　In　the　house　Eugene　struck　the　boy。　Aaron's　nose　bled；　but　he　made　no　sound。
　'Speak；　boy。'
　'What　shall　I　say？'
　'Am　I　your　father　or　not？'
　'Yes；　father。'
　'Liar！'
　He　struck　again；　without　warning；　this　time　the　blow　carried　Aaron　to　the　floor。　As　his　small；　uncalloused　palms　flattened　against　the　kitchen　tiles　to　raise　himself　he　felt　something　through　the　floor。　There　was　a　music　in　the　ground。
　'Liar！'　his　father　was　saying　still。
　There　would　be　more　blows　to　e；　the　boy　thought；　more　pain；　more　blood。　But　it　was　bearable；　and　the　music　was　a　promise；　after　a　long　wait；　of　an　end　to　blows　once　and　for　all。
　
　Davidson　staggered　into　the　main　street　of　Wele。　It　was　the　middle　of　the　afternoon；　he　guessed　（his　watch　had　stopped；　perhaps　out　of　sympathy）；　but　the　town　appeared　to　be　empty；　until　his　eye　alighted　on　the　dark；　smoking　mound　in　the　middle　of　the　street；　a　hundred　yards　from　where　he　stood。
　If　such　a　thing　had　been　possible；　his　blood　would　have　run　cold　at　the　sight。
　He　recognized　what　that　bundle　of　burned　flesh　had　been；　despite　the　distance；　and　his　head　spun　with　horror。　It　had　all　been　real　after　all。　He　stumbled　on　a　couple　more　steps；　fighting　the　dizziness　and　losing；　until　he　felt　himself　supported　by　strong　arms；　and　heard；　through　a　fuzz　of　head…noises；　reassuring　words　being　spoken　to　him。　They　made　no　sense；　but　at　least　they　were　soft　and　human：　he　could　give　up　any　pretence　to　consciousness。　He　fainted；　but　it　seemed　there　was　only　a　moment　of　respite　before　the　world　came　back　into　view　again；　as　odious　as　ever。
　He　had　been　carried　inside　and　was　lying　on　an　un…fortable　sofa；　a　woman's　face；　that　of　Eleanor　Kooker；　staring　down　at　him。　She　beamed　as　he　came　round。
　'The　man'll　survive；'　she　said；　her　voice　like　cabbage　going　through　a　grater。
　She　leaned　further　forward。
　'You　seen　the　thing；　did　you？'
　Davidson　nodded。
　'Better　give　us　the　low…down。'
　A　glass　was　thrust　into　his　hand　and　Eleanor　filled　it　generously　with　whisky。
　'Drink；'　she　demanded；　'then　tell　us　what　you　got　to　tell　…'
　
　He　downed　the　whisky　in　two；　and　the　glass　was　immediately　refilled。　He　drank　the　second　glass　more　slowly；　and　began　to　feel　better。
　The　room　was　filled　with　people：　it　was　as　though　all　of　Wele　was　pressing　into　the　Kooker　front　parlour。　Quite　an　audience：　but　then　it　was　quite　a　tale。　Loosened　by　the　whisky；　he　began　to　tell　it　as　best　he　could；　without　embellishment；　just　letting　the　words　e。　In　return　Eleanor　described　the　circumstances　of　Sheriff　Packard's　'accident'　with　the　body　of　the　car…wrecker。　Packard　was　in　the　room；　looking　the　worse　for　consoling　whiskies　and　pain　killers；　his　mutilated　hand　bound　up　so　well　it　looked　more　like　a　club　than　a　limb。
　'It's　not　the　only　devil　out　there；'　said　Packard　when　the　stories　were　out。
　'So's　you　say；'　said　Eleanor；　her　quick　eyes　less　than　convinced。
　'My　Papa　said　so；'　Packard　returned；　staring　down　at　his　bandaged　hand。　'And　I　believe　it；　sure　as　Hell　I　believe　it。'
　'Then　we'd　best　do　something　about　it。'
　'Like　what？'　posed　a　sour　looking　individual　leaning　against　the　mantelpiece。　'What's　to　be　done　about　the　likes　of　a　thing　that　eats　automobiles？'
　Eleanor　straightened　up　and　delivered　a　well…aimed　sneer　at　the　questioner。
　'Well　let's　have　the　benefit　of　your　wisdom；　Lou；'　she　said。　'What　do　you　think　we　should　do？'
　'I　think　we　should　lie　low　and　let　'em　pass。'
　'I'm　no　ostrich；'　said　Eleanor；　'but　if　you　want　to　go　bury　your　head；　I'll　lend　you　a　spade；　Lou。　I'll　even　dig　you　the　hole。'
　General　laughter。　The　cynic；　disforted；　fell　silent　and　picked　at　his　nails。
　'We　can't　sit　here　and　let　them　e　running　through；'　said　Packard's　deputy；　between　blowing　bubbles　with　his　gum。
　'They　were　going　towards　the　mountains；'　Davidson　said。　'Away　from　Wele。'
　'So　what's　to　stop　them　changing　their　goddam　minds？'　Eleanor　countered。　'Well？'
　No　answer。　A　few　nods；　a　few　head　shakings。　'Jebediah；'　she　said；　'you're　deputy　…　what　do　you　think　about　this？'
　The　young　man　with　the　badge　and　the　gum　flushed　a　little；　and　plucked　at　his　thin　moustache。　He　obviously　hadn't　a　clue。
　'I　see　the　picture；'　the　woman　snapped　back　before　he　could　answer。　'Clear　as　a　bell。　You're　all　too　shit…　scared　to　go　poking　them　divils　out　of　their　holes；　that　it？'
　Murmurs　of　self…justification　around　the　room；　more　head…shaking。
　'You're　just　planning　to　sit　yourselves　down　and　let　the　women　folk　be　devoured。'
　A　good　word：　devoured。　So　much　more　emotive　than　eaten。　Eleanor　paused　for　effect。　Then　she　said　darkly：　'Or　worse。'
　Worse　than　devoured？　Pity　sakes；　what　was　worse　than　devoured？
　'You're　not　going　to　be　touched　by　no　divils；'　said　Packard；　getting　up　from　his　seat　with　some　difficulty。　He　swayed　on　his　feet　as　he　addressed　the　room。
　'We're　going　to　have　them　shit…eaters　and　lynch　'em。'　This　rousing　battle…cry　left　the　males　in　the　room　unroused；　the　sheriff　was　low　on　credibility　since　his　encounter　in　Main　Street。
　'Discretion's　the　better　part　of　valour；'　Davidson　mur…mured　under　his　breath。
　'That's　so　much　horse…shit；'　said　Eleanor。
　Davidson　shrugged；　and　finished　off　the　whisky　in　his　glass。　It　was　not　re…filled。　He　reflected　ruefully　that　he　should　be　thankful　he　was　still　alive。　But　his　work…schedule　was　in　ruins。　He　had　to　get　to　a　telephone　and　hire　a　car；　if　necessary　have　someone　drive　out　to　pick　him　up。　The　'divils'；　whatever　they　were；　were　not　his　problem。　Perhaps　he'd　be　interested　to　read　a　few　column…inches　on　the　subject　in　Newsweek；　when　he　was　back　East　and　relaxing　with　Barbara；　but　now　all　he　wanted　to　do　was　finish　his　business　in　Arizona　and　get　home　as　soon　as　possible。
　Packard；　however；　had　other　ideas。
　'You're　a　witness；'　he　said；　pointing　at　Davidson；　'and　as　Sheriff　of　this　munity　I　order　you　to　stay　in　Wele　until　you've　answered　to　my　satisfaction　all　inquiries　I　have　to　put　to　you。'
　The　formal　language　sounded　odd　from　his　slobbish　mouth。
　'I've　got　business　…'　Davidson　began。
　'Then　you　just　send　a　cable　and　cancel　that　business；　Mr　fancy…Davidson。'
　The　man　was　scoring　points　off　him；　Davidson　knew；　bolstering　his　shattered　reputation　by　taking　pot…shots　at　the　Easterner。　Still；　Packard　was　the　law：　there　was　nothing　to　be　done　about　it。　He　nodded　his　assent　with　as　much　good　grace　as　he　could　muster。　There'd　be　time　to　lodge　a　formal　plaint　against　this　hick…town　Mussolini　when　he　was　home；　safe　and　sound。　For　now；　better　to　send　a　cable；　and　let　business　go　hang。
　'So　what's　the　plan？'　Eleanor　demanded　of　Packard。
　The　Sheriff　puffed　out　his　booze…brightened　cheeks。
　
　'We　deal　with　the　divils；'　he　said。
　'How？'
　'Guns；　woman。'
　'You'll　need　more　than　guns；　if　they're　as　big　as　he　says　they　are　…'
　'They　are　…'　said　Davidson；　'believe　me；　they　are。'
　Packard　sneered。
　'We'll　take　the　whole　fucking　arsenal；'　he　said　jerking　his　remaining　thumb　at　Jebediah。　'Go　break　out　the　heavy…duty　weapons；　boy。　Anti…tank　stuff。　Bazookas。'
　General　amazement。
　'You　got　bazookas？'　said　Lou；　the　mantelpiece　cynic。
　Packard　managed　a　leering　smile。
　'Military　stuff；'　he　said；　'left　over　from　the　Big　One。'　Davidson　sighed　inwardly。　The　man　was　a　psychotic；　with　his　own　little　arsenal　of　out…of…date　weapons；　which　were　probably　more　lethal　to　the　user　than　to　the　victim。　They　were　all　going　to　die。　God　help　him；　they　were　all　going　to　die。
　'You　may　have　lost　your　fingers；'　said　Eleanor　Kooker；　delighted　by　this　show　of　bravado；　'but　you're　the　only　man　in　this　room；　Josh　Packard。'
　Packard　beamed　and　rubbed　his　crotch　absent　mindedly。　Davidson　couldn't　take　the　atmosphere　of　hand…me…down　machismo　in　the　room　any　longer。
　'Look；'　he　piped　up；　'I've　told　you　all　I　know。　Why　don't　I　just　let　you　folks　get　on　with　it